


One More Troubled Soul.

by RamonaFlowers98



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: Attempted Rape, F/M, Murder House, coven - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:41:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamonaFlowers98/pseuds/RamonaFlowers98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of a crossover between murder house and coven. Violet's new found friendship with the new kid at Westfield makes Tate jealous. Does it really mean anything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jock.

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is my first published fic, please give it to me straight if it's shit. It's constructive and I can take it.

Violet was so glad to be home from the torture that was Westfield high. She closed the front door behind her and made her way up the stairs. She entered her room and collapsed straight away on her bed.

"How was your day?" Tate asked, peering up from one of her books, sitting with his legs crossed in her desk chair. "Hold me." she sighed. He closed the book and did as he was told, crawling his way to her. He held her tightly as he nuzzled his face into her neck. "I'm sorry you had a rough day. Need me to kick anyone's ass?" She giggled and shook her head. "It was just the same old stuff. But it wasn't all bad. I made friends with the new kid." She started to play with his fingers as she spoke. He loved it when she did that. "Oh yeah? What's her name?" he said, inbetween the kisses he laid on her neck. He felt her shiver in his embrace. "Kyle. He's really awesome. He defended me against those assholes at school."

She rolled over to face him as the blood slowly drained from his face and his eyes turned black. A boy? Who's awesome and protective? I bet he's actually a major dick. Trying to get into her pants, he thought to himself. But tough luck, jerk off. She was his and his only

"Tate? Are you okay?" she asked, worried by his vacant expression. He gulped and nodded, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. "Um, I'm gonna go shower," She got up and lifted her shirt off. "Wanna come with?" She held her hand out for him to take. As much as he wanted to, he declined. "Oh...okay." She said sadly. "Hey, do you maybe wanna watch a movie later?" he asked. "Sure, which one?" She smiled. "Whatever you want." He said as he got up and cupped her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her forehead.

He waited for the sound of rushing water from the bathroom before he reached for her laptop. He didn't have to guess her facebook password, it was already logged in. She barely went on this website thingy, but she had one friend request from some guy.

Kyle Spencer. This must be her new 'friend'.

He clicked on his profile to see who exactly this dude was. He couldn't help but notice the similarities between him and Kyle. Their faces were almost exact. He even had the same blond curls! He liked nirvana, Morrissey, even those depressing russain novels she was always reading. Kyle was clearly more suited for her than he could ever be. Kyle's not dead nor is he a psychopath.

Tate started to feel pangs rejection and abandonment slowly rise up inside him. Violet was the only light he'd ever known, he didn't want to lose her. He felt anger boil in his chest. Maybe he could take it out on those asshole twins.

He was suddenly relieved to see "in a relationship" under Kyle's info. It didn't erase every doubt, but it considerably helped. He closed his eyes and her laptop lid. Just calm down.

After she got out of the shower, they watched an old 50's romance. She was smiling and happy and so, so beautiful. But she her phone kept buzzing and she kept giggling and replying to something. It pissed Tate off, but he kept quiet. She was rarely this content with life and he didn't want to ruin it. They fed each other popcorn until eventually the movie finished and Violet fell asleep on his shoulder. He carried her into her bed, piling blankets to keep her warm. He didn't climb in after her. He just sat at her desk and observed for a little while. Images of her and that boy kept popping up in his head. He couldn't get them out.

He saw Kyle carresing her soft skin, making her purr like a little kitten. His longing stare nelting her insides. Her hands running up his back as he kissed her neck while she whimpered his name.

He clenched his fist and banged it on the table. Violet lunged foward, startled. "Tate? What the... come to bed." She muttered sleepily. He clung to her small frame tightly, whispering "I love you," over and over again into her ear.

No one was going to take his Violet. No one.

-

When Violet woke up the following morning, Tate wasn't there. He usually got up before her. He'd read until Violet had to get up for school, then he'd try convincing her to stay home, to which she'd glumly decline. But today he wasn't there. She wasn't woke up by his kisses, or the tapping of her laptop keys as Tate tried to google bird pictures. She was woken up by her Dad, shaking her and shouting, "You're going to be late, Vi!"

She groaned. She rubbed her eyes and scanned the room, looking for the littlest trace of him. Nothing.

"Tate?" She sleepily dragged her shirt over her chest. She was pulling on her jeans when her phone buzzed.

To: Violet

Want a ride to school?

Kyle.

As out of the blue as it was, she really couldn't face the long walk to Westfield today.

To: Kyle

Only if I can put my music on. Don't know if I can handle more butthole surfers ;)

Violet.

She smiled to herself. Apart from Tate, she'd never really had a friend she could poke fun at. It felt... nice.

"Who was that?" Violet jumped up, surprised by Tate's sudden presence. He looked really pale and tired. "Kyle. He's giving me a ride to school. Where've you been, stranger?" she slung her arms around Tate's shoulders. "Just with Beau."

She walked over to the window to see her father's car pull out the driveway. "Looks like my parents are at the grocery store. Want some breakfast?" He stood being her as his hands started to explore her curves, tracing over her hips. "That's not what I'm hungry for." His sultry voice made her whimper. She turned to face him and their lips instantly met. He kissed her with more hunger than he'd ever kissed her with before. He kissed her like she would disappear if he ever let go. He laid her onto the bed and pinned her wrists down, nibbling her neck. She moaned softly, the sound driving Tate crazy. He started unbuckling her pants but she pushed him away. "I'm gonna be late." She complained inbetween kisses. "So? It's not like they're going to miss you for one more day." She sat up, grabbed her textbooks and threw them into her tote bag. She was reaching for iPod when he grabbed her wrist and started to rub circles into her skin with his thumb in the spot where her scars were. "Spend the day with me." It was more of a command than a question.

She was about to answer when there was a loud beep from outside. "Kyle's here, I gotta go." She threw on her jacket and planted her lips on his forehead. "I love you."

It was kinda rare for her to say that, and even though she did truly love him, she only really said it to distract him from the reality of the situation; a boy was hanging out with her. She wasn't an idiot, she knew he was jealous, she was just trying to not notice it. But it was pretty fucking obvious.

The music blaring and the engine roaring, she looked back at the murder house, all the trapped souls waving goodbye. 

"So, Halloween's coming up..." Kyle said, the warm breeze ruffling his curls. "You doing anything?"

She bit her lip. "Probably not. Why?" She looked over at Kyle, nervously playing with her hair. She didn't know why, but he made her feel really shy, and Violet was not the shy type. She didn't like feeling that way. But she did like Kyle.

Maybe it was his varsity jacket and mass amount of preppy friends that intimidated her? Despite all those things, he really wasn't your average jock. He was nice and his music taste wasn't that bad.

"There's this party... it's probably gonna be awful but I don't know maybe..." he trailed off. "Sure. It's not like I have anything better to do." She flashed a smile at him, which he returned as he relaxed into his seat. "Oh, can Tate come?" He rose an eyebrow, confused, as it dawned on Violet that she had forgotten to mention the fact that she had a boyfriend.

They had been acting so flirtatiously! What if he liked her? What if he thought she like him back?

She'd be a liar if she said she'd never thought about Kyle in that way...

But still. She loved Tate.

"Tate's my boyfriend." She definitely saw the disappointment in his eyes, though his smile never faltered. "Sure, but it's a costume party so you guys'll have to dress up." She groaned. "Costumes? What are they, Five?" He laughed and her tummy did the flippy over thing it did when she felt happy.

She lay back into her seat as the scenery floated by and her thoughts turned to the undeniable feelings she had for Kyle. 'What the actual fuck am I going to do?' she thought to herself. She lit a cigarette and tried to push it to the back of mind for the rest of the day.

-

She opened the door quietly, surprised that Tate wasn't already waiting for her as she looked arounud the empty living room. "Tate?" She called out to him, but he did not reply. She checked the study; nothing. She checked the kitchen; nada. Annoyed, she ran upstairs to her room. "Come on, Tate. I'm not in the mood for games." She searched every corner of her room but she still couldn't find him. She started to panic as she pulled down the attic ladder to see if he was with Beau.

"Play!" A red ball rolled across the room towards her feet. Violet smiled sadly, observing his only passtime. "Not right now, Beau." She said in her most calming voice, slowly rolling the ball back to him. She gazed out the attic window and her eyes widened when she saw Tate, curled up in a ball in the gazebo. She immediately ran downstairs as fast as she could.

"Tate?" She asked quietly, slowly approaching his shivering body. The closer she got, the worse Tate looked. He was as white as a sheet and his once green shirt was now drenched in red. She let out a sob, crouching down beside him and carefully tracing his re-opened chest wounds with her fingers. He didn't look concious. "Oh, Tate..." She held his limp form to her chest. She knew he was about to disppear and eventually re-spawn in the basement, almost good as new, but that didn't make him dying any easier. His wounds only ever opened if he was in great emotional pain, and it killed her to know that while she was out having fun and living life, he was stuck here, dying over and over again on some sort of loop. It must be something serious, he's usually very open with her. His eyes opened a tiny bit. "Vi..." he croaked. "Shh, its okay. I'm here now." He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

Violet remembered when she was little and ill, her mother used to sing to her. Her mother's voice was so beautiful, Violet used to fake headaches just to hear it. It sounded like something you'd hear by the gates to heaven.

The sudden autumn chill made the hairs on her arms stand up and Tate just got colder and colder.

"You are my sunshine,

my only sunshine.

You make me happy

when skies are grey.

You'll never know, dear,

how much I love you.

Please don't take

my sunshine

away..."

Tate smiled weakly at the lullaby. He started shaking violently, blood pouring out of his mouth. She tried to hold on, but she couldn't stop it. One by one, his limbs disintigrated until he was nothing more than dust on her skirt. She sobbed, his smoky and bloody remains stuck to her skin like sweat and it make her feel sick to her stomach. But she didn't get up. She laid there, under the gazebo roof, above the bones. Just a sticky, sad mess. She cried till her head ached, and then she cried some more. She couldn't remember at what point she fell asleep, but she must've. One minute it was daytime and she was weeping uncontrollably in the garden, the next it's dark and cold and she's being scooped up and tucked into bed by her Dad. Like she was a child.

And it was childish. He'd be back soon. Clean and without the bullet holes. But the guilt pushed down on her chest until she couldn't breathe. It was all her fault.

She got up at 4AM to escape her dreams. Dreams of Tate, dreams of Kyle. She tiptoed downstairs, made two cups of cocoa and marshmallows and pulled the attic ladder down as silently as possible, trying her best not to wake her parents. "Hi, beau." She greeted him, to which he clapped his hands together happily. "Vi..oh..leh!" he exclaimed. They'd been practing words together. She sat down next to him and lifted the cup to his lips, helping him sip the chocolately drink. He laughed and started clapping again. He grabbed all the marshmallows at once, grinning as he shoveled them into his mouth. She liked Beau. He never judged, liked to listen and always had a smile for her. She put the mug carefully into his hands, letting him drink it himself as she searched through the boxes her parents had put up there. She came across the book her Mom made when Violet was 6.

She sat back down next to Beau. "Look, Beau. Baby!" She pointed to a photo of her and her Dad in the hospital, just after she'd been born. "Bay...Bee!" Beau giggled. She applauded him and Beau joined in.

She found her old book of fairy tales and Beau laid down while she read to him. She was just at the end of Snow White when she realised he'd fallen asleep. She didn't want to disturb him, so she draped a blanket over him, placing his little red ball by his side.

"Goodnight, Beau."


	2. The psycho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains issues some readers may find triggering. Continue with caution.

It had been three days since the incident, and in those three days Violet had hung out with Kyle twice, attended school once, and spoke to Tate a total of zero times. The only communication they'd had was through Violet's chalkboard:

'You don't love me anymore.' She found that scrawled on the board when she came home one day.

'Asshole, of course I do.'

She knew he was watching her, she could feel him in every room of the house. She could feel his breath on her skin when she slept. She could feel his eyes bore into her back when she got dressed.

There's was only one way to get his attention and although just thinking about it terrified the shit out of her, the thought of losing Tate was a thousand times worse.

Her mary jane's tiptoed down the basement stairs, the banister creaking as her thin hands leaned onto it. She went to the back of the basement, to the very spot where Leah said she saw the devil. She laid back into the rocking chair, slightly more relaxed when she realised his scent was still on it. She rocked back and forth, quietly waiting.

"He's going to attack," she said to a room which appeared empty, but she knew Tate was lurking within ear-shot. "And when he does, I'm not going to tell him to go away." The lights started flickering. "I'm not leaving this basement without you." She folded her arms tightly.

Her heart froze; she heard Children's laughter slowly morph into some sort of satanic growl. "Come and play, Thaddeus." She taunted. Although she was scared, she made sure to not give anything away. She heard the pattering of tiny feet. She stared at her nails, pretending to be bored, trying to infuriate the little freak. Suddenly, a great force from behind pushed her from the chair. She hit her head hard on the concrete floor. She didn't get up, she just laid there, bruised and cold. The sudden weight of Thaddeus' surprisingly heavy body crushed her ribs. She raised her middle finger to his bloodied face. He lifted her head and threw it back onto the floor, enraged by her actions.

She thought she was as good as dead until a voice boomed, "Go away!" The pain in her head was searing as she was lifted up and carried from the basement. She drifted in and out, unsure what was real and what was not.

She opened her eyes to see Tate lowering her into her desk chair. "Violet? Can you hear me?" She nodded slowly. "What the hell were you thinking, Vi?" He was pacing up and down her bedroom. "I'm sorry." She mumbled. She rubbed her forehead, wincing in pain. "Are you okay? Do you want some water?" He knealt down infront of her, stroking the palm of her hand. She shook her head and smiled at him. "You're cute when you're worried." She kissed him softly on the cheek. She went to sit with him on the floor, but he got up and turned away. "What's wrong?" Violet followed him, resting her head in the nape of his neck. "I don't think I should be with you anymore." Tate croaked. She took a step back, shocked. "What? Why?" Her voice trembled. "You're too good for me, Vi." His scratchy voice replied.

She struggled to breathe. "You deserve someone like Kyle, not me." She sighed and pushed her hair back. "That's not fucking fair. I'm allowed friends!" Tate nervously played with the holes in his cardigan. "I've known him a week, he has a girlfriend and I'm in love with you." She cupped his face in her hands. "I've seen the way he looks at you." He said, darkly. "If you're so godamn sure, maybe I should date Kyle. At least he wouldn't act like such a posessive asshole." Violet regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth.

He walked up to her, eyes as dark as treacle. They were so close, their lips were barely apart. "Why don't you just get it over with and fuck him?" Shocked by the sheer venom that dripped off his words, she slapped him across the face, her ring scratching his face. He pushed her against the wall, kissing her forcefully. Although she was totally pissed at him, they hadn't had sex in days. Also, Tate wasn't being so cautious with her like he always was. He though of her as fragile, so he made sure Violet never got hurt. But Violet was strong and fearless; she liked it rough.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her hands in his messy curls. Tate ground his hips against her, hard. She whimpered as his hands slid under her dress. He began nibbling at her neck, leaving tiny bloody bruises behind. He practically tore her clothes off as he threw her onto the bed. Although he'd always made her cum, this time she was left speechless and out of breath. She liked it.

-

He woke in a tangled mess in Violet's bed, his arms wrapped around her little waist. He sat up and smiled to himself as he watched her sleep. Just watching her laid there, so peacful. He felt completely content. Her eyes flickered open and she smiled when she saw Tate was watching her. "Hey." Violet flashed a smile at him. He looked down at her thighs, they were decorated with sore marks from the night before. "I'm sorry. Did it hurt?" His fingers lightly traced the black-and-blue contusions that decorated her creamy white thighs. "Not really. It was intense." Her light brown eyes stared up at him. "For me too." He replied.

She sat up and kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose. "I know it's easy to get jealous when you're stuck in a place like this," Tate never felt too bad about his imprisionment in the house until it was said aloud. The truth hurt, like it always does. "But you have to learn to trust me. I want to be with you so badly, Tate." He smiled brightly, instantly feeling better after hearing that. "I do. I love you, Vi." She rested her head on his chest, never wanting to leave the bed.

"Kyle invited us to a Halloween party tommorow. You need a costume." She said. Tate smirked to himself. "I've got just the thing."

-

Violet pushed her hair into the white cap and pulled up her garters. She hated the uniform Moira loaned her, but she kinda had to wear it, the store costumes were really dumb. Plus, it was either that or borrowing something from the dead nurse in the bathtub. She shivered at the thought as she gently applied her deep red lipstick and drew wings onto her eyes.

Tate came out of the bathroom covered in Rick Genest face paint. Seeing Violet standing there in such a short skirt, he could feel his pants starting to feel tight already. "Wow." He spluttered. She laughed and 'aciddentaly' dropped her duster. "Whoops." She giggled as she bent down to pick it up off the floor, making Tate choke out the most unintelligble noise imaginable. "You loser." he blushed, intensely. "I'd kiss you but I wouldn't want to ruin your makeup, zombie boy." She nibbled at his ear as his hand trailed to her rear. "You're so fucking hot, Vi." Tate said, breathlessly. "Save it for tonight." She winked.

She lead him by the hand and out of their home, whispering dirty things in his ear on the short walk to Kyle's friend's house.

It stank of booze and vomit, filled to the brim with frat boys and drunk college girls. "It's only ten, how is everyone so trashed?" He murmered. Tate hadn't been to a party in almost twenty years, he felt so out of place. Red cups everywhere, and orange and black paper chains hung lazily from the ceiling. The decorations were pretty shit. "Violet! You made it!" Kyle pulled her in for a hug, his hand lightly brushed against her curves making Tate frown. "You both have really awesome costumes." Although he said both, Tate was sure that compliment was mainly directed at Violet, as he couldn't stop staring at her chest. She beamed at him. "I completely forgot to introduce you! Kyle, this is Tate. Tate, this is Kyle." They exchanged polite 'how-do-you-do's', but the tension between them was blunt and obvious. "Have we met before? Your face is really familiar..."

Tate could see the blood drain from Violet's face. She was obviously thinking about The Dead Breakfast Club. He was about to deny it but Violet quickly changed the subject. "So, what have you come as?" She asked. "FrankenKyle! Or at least that's what everyone's calling me." he said, pointing to the face paint and bloody varsity jacket as his face turned bright red. "Wow, that's...great." She said, stifiling her laughter. "I know, I'm a dork. It's embarassing." Tate didn't like the way Kyle smiled at her, his grip on her arm tightend. "You're hurting me." She whispered as she shot him a dirty look. Kyle, noticing that things might get ugly between them, quickly excused himself and went to go find a friend.

"What's the matter with you?" She hissed. He shrugged, Violet's arms fell to her side as she sighed defeatedly. "You know what? I'm done trying to get you to trust me."

Some college dude walked up to Violet, undressing her with his eyes. "Hey, baby. You want a drink?" He held up a red plastic cup, waving it infront of her face. She took it from his hands and drank it without breaking eye contact with Tate, licking her lips and walking away with the group of assholes.

Tate stormed off in a exasperated rage, trying to find some drunk girl he could make Violet jealous with. As he searched around the house, the realisation that girls nowadays don't want to make out with boys wearing skull makeup dawned on him. He started to worry about people recognising him as he kept getting confused and horrified stares from various people. For the first time in his life, he wished he was in the murder house.

"Violet?" He called for her, but had no reply. The obnoxious music was defeaning and he could barely hear himself think. "Violet!" He shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "Tate? Dude, what's up?" Kyle appeared from behind him. "I'll tell you what's up, 'dude'," He said, mockingly. "I can't find Violet anywhere!"

"I'm sure she's here somewhere, bro." Kyle replied as he lifted his beer to his lips. "She went off with a bunch of frat boys-" Tate was interuppted by Kyle choking on his drink. "What?" He asked. "We need to find her. Now." Kyle said in a serious tone. "What kind of people are you friends with?!" Tate pushed him out of his way.

They rushed up the stairs, shouting her name as they began searching the many rooms. Tate was fucking terrified. He opened the third bedroom. "Violet?"

Violet was laid onto the bed, paralyzed, as a group of college boy surrounded her and some guy with his dick out who about to forcefully enter her. "VIOLET!" He bellowed. Tate grabbed the filthy rapist by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall, repeatedly. "You sick bastard!" Tate screamed at the guy, the darkness within him had reached the surface.

Kyle ran in as the others fled the room. "Grab them!" Tate shouted. Kyle pulled one of them back and threw him on the floor, kicking him in the crotch. Tate's hand firmly squeezed his neck. "I want you to suffer." He growled. The douchebag begged for his life, pleading for forgiveness, but Tate had promised long ago to protect Violet and he was prepared to do anything for her. He picked him up and launched him through the window, the breaking of the glass making an almighty sound.

He heard the music turn off and people scream as he lifted up a sobbing Violet up in his arms.

"It's okay, I'm here now."


	3. Chapter 3

hey so I've kinda abandoned this story and this acc but I'm doing some things on wattpad if anyone is interested in that, u can follow me @pinheadhemmo ((also here is a link to my latest fanfic, who knows maybe I'll actually finish this one lol http://w.tt/1Gfelkx ))


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